Love by Lambert
by Nymbis
Summary: Lambert is evil. He also likes money. Why not find a career that combines the two? That’s right Evil Overlord Lambert is now an official relationship therapist. Daughters of the Moon will never be the same again. Finished!
1. From Rags to Professional Rags

_Love by Lambert_

**Summary: **Lambert is evil. He also likes money. Why not find a career that combines the two? That's right; Evil Overlord Lambert is now an official relationship therapist. Daughters of the Moon will never be the same again.

**AN: **I just love Lambert. Really I do, but I love torturing Lambert even more! And for those of you wondering what in the seven hells happened to _Scrooge You, _well the answer is that I lost the fourth grade play that I have been adapting the story from. (angsty sighs) I was the narrator! THE NARRATOR!

_Disclamer: _I do not own the various crap mentioned in this.

This was inspired by a review for my Hector/Penelope oneshot _This Time It's Forever _from **Shadow Goddess Akhet **who mentioned something about all the DOTM relationships being forbidden. It sparked this idea, so I dedicate this story to her. Thanks!

**Without further adieu…**

_Prolog: _From Rags to…Slightly More Professional Rags

It had started with the daily paper. Really, that's all it had taken for Lambert to take his greatest career move in the history of his terribly delectable self. It had been a normal morning, drinking some hot coffee that was as black as his soul in a kitty mug, doing some air guitar along with Blue Oyster Cult, the usual. It was when he was approaching his final morning routine, solving the Sunday word jumble with a dastardly panache, that he came upon something that would change his hate-mongering ways **forever**.

It was…an advertisement in the classifieds. Lambert had decided to leaf through that section on a whim as Tymmie had broken yet _another _lawnmower and as Lambert could just not take the dandelions growing in his yard anymore, he was searching for a replacement.

The ad with its clever color scheme of black and white is what caught his eye. It stated the following:

_Are you significantly evil? _To this, Lambert put a mental checkmark.

_Do you love money? _Yet another mental checkmark! Huzzah!

_Do you love love? _Er… two out of three wasn't bad.

_Then Communicating Hearts, a new local counseling center for people in relationships, wants to enlist _you _(Lambert: Me?) as a relationship therapist. For some odd reason, no experience in either therapy or relationships is required! It's the perfect job for struggling Evil Overlords to start life anew!_

"My god!" Lambert gasped, his hand shaking as he grasped the paper, it was…it was like this four by three-and-a-half inch advertisement was his _life_!

Lambert didn't feel the need to reflect how utterly pathetic it was that his entire life could be summed up on a four by three-and-a-half inch advertisement.

_Then don't delay! Call 867-5309-LOVE for an immediate position!_

It took absolutely no thought process whatsoever for Lambert to drop the paper and call the center to request a position as a relationship therapist. Never mind the realization that he had been working as an Evil Incarnate for the past six hundred years, knew no other job skills besides guarding children from shadows, knew nothing about relationships, openly despised love, _and _the fact that there was one too many numbers in the center's phone service number, plus it seemed like it was taken from a pop eighties hit.

But somehow, miraculously, Lambert scored a job. God help us all.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Lambert straightened the potted plant in the corner of his office for about the thousandth time, taking out a ruler to make sure it was set at a perfect ninety-degree angle in relation to the window. Nodding contently, Lambert looked out the window to see his only _real _subordinate, Tymmie, wandering up and down the streets yelling Lambert's name. The Evil Overlord sighed, he supposed he should have left a note or something saying he had made a career move. But he didn't, and now Tymmie was travailing aimlessly through crime-infested streets looking for him as he thought he had gotten lost again like that one time at the mall…

But oh well, he had relationships to save!

As if on cue, and it sort of was, a knocksounded from thedoor. His first clients! Quickly, Lambert fumbled in the pockets of his Cloak of Doom ™ for his super-disguising glasses. After all, he couldn't just _give _away his identity! Otherwise they wouldn't take his love adviceseriously, and Lambert couldn't have that!

Slipping on the Harry Potter-esque glasses he had stolen from a five year old, Lambert then quickly opened the door to see-

**To Be Continued…**

You guys vote on which of the following pairings you want next chapter! (they will all be done, you just get to determine the order )

Your choices:

Stanton and Serena

Catty and her multitude of whipping boys

Jimena and Collin

Vanessa and that one guy who's really not that important

Maggie and Hector

Tymmie and Karyl (maybe hehe)

Derek and Tianna

Anyone else you can think of

Thanks! Till Next Chap!

!nym!


	2. Catty and Her Multitude of Whipping Boys

_Love by Lambert_

**AN: **you guys voted for….bum ba bum bum…bum:

**Chapter One: **Catty and Her Multitude of Whipping Boys

_Backflash! _

Slipping on the Harry Potter-esque glasses he had stolen from a five year old, Lambert then quickly opened the door to see-

_Flashback!_

-A figure clothed all in black wearing a ridiculously big, floppy hat. "I heard you could help me." Came a low, muffled voice.

Lambert's eyebrows rose, "Perhaps." He replied smoothly.

"Can we talk?" The voice behind the, dare he say it, tacky hat asked.

A look of bafflement crossed his features, "Isn't that what we're doing?"

He was met with silence for a few awkward moments before 1940s spy music filtered through the room and the person in black moonwalked, backwards, into his office. Lambert was quite impressed at the display of homie-esque, awesomely cool dance grooves the person with the tacky-ass hat demonstrated upon entering.

When the music snapped off and the figure in black froze in a pose, Lambert just stood there and shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, "Well, er, do you want relationship advice?"

"You can't speak of this outside the room, or I _will **kill **you._" Came the ominous voice once again and Lambert peed a bit in his pants from fear.

He straightened his collar, "Sure! No sweat!" He attempted to give an anime-style thumbs up, complete with mystic sparkly background, but then he realized that his fandom didn't _have _cool thumbs-up poses with sparkly backgrounds so he felt a bit put out.

"Were you just attempting to give me a cool thumbs-up pose complete with mystic sparkly background?" The voice asked incredulously.

"Heh." Lambert muttered, embarrassed.

"Lameass." Coughed the figure.

"Are you sick?" Lambert questioned.

"Er…anyways, you swear you can't go outside this room with whatever I tell you?"

"Yep."

"Pinky swear?"

Lambert's eyebrows furrowed, this didn't seem to fit the idiom of cool, dark, and dangerous figure in black, but muttered a half-hearted, "Ok."

"Sweet! Now I can get rid of this tacky-ass hat!" Came a decidedly hyper voice as they threw their hat off with flourish, revealing-

"CATTY!" Lambert exclaimed, jaw-dropping. There was no way that this was the girl he had sent to an infernal netherworld via lightening bolt of doom a few months ago!

She placed a hand on her hip, "Sh! Not so loud, they'll hear me!" She cried, than evaluated him for a moment, "What's up with you? You look like you've just seen a girl that you've sent to an infernal netherworld via lightening bolt of doom a few months ago."

His jaw dropped even more to a degree that could not be healthy, and would more than likely cause him severe TMJ problems in the future. "But…but you're _Catty!_" He cried incredulously.

She rolled her eyes, "Yes, I believe we covered that, I'm your 8 o'clock appointment."

"But-but don't you know who I am?"

Catty squinted, "You know, if it weren't for those rather dashing glasses that cover roughly one twelfth of your face, I'd say you looked _awfully _familiar."

"That's because I'm-"

"But that's beside the point, I need an expert's advice asap!" She cried, striking a heroic pose as she leaped onto the couch in Lambert's office.

He regained his wits to enter cynical evil mode, "Asap isn't a word, it's an _acronym_ for As Soon As Possible, therefore it is A-S-A-P." He declared smugly, than added for good measure, "And please get your feet off of my couch."

Catty lowered her head, ashamed, and reluctantly stepped off of Lambert's couch.

He cleared his throat, "Now then, Ms…uh, you, what can I help you with? Doctor Bertlamb is here to help." Lambert inwardly chuckled at his clever anagram he had created as a pseudonym. Lord Voldemort had _nothing _on him.

She sighed and plopped down on the couch, "Well, you see, lately there's been hordes of hormonally driven teenaged boys at my beck and call."

There was a silence, before Lambert prompted expertly, "And…?" He didn't see what the problem was, after all, who wouldn't want hordes of hormonally driven teenaged boys at their beck and call? Lambert sure wouldn't mind; they could kill all the dandelions in his yard.

"At first it was really nice, I mean I even bought them all customized pool boy uniforms that had 'Catty!' printed across the ass, but then…" She trailed off for dramatic emphasis, "They became a little bit _too _obsessed, following me wherever I went, bugging my mom, stealing my underwear for god knows what, eating my Cheetos-"

Her rant was cut off as suddenly there were a bunch of scraping noises coming from the office door and groaning noises. Lambert hesitantly approached the door to see a crowd of hand silhouettes clawing at the door threw the glass and he paled, "Holy shit, there's zombies outside of my office!" He gestured to Catty with his left hand, "Quick! I have a shotgun with unlimited ammo hiding under the potted plant for convenient reasons!"

Catty shook her head, "They're not zombies Doctor Bertlamb! I knew they would follow me, that's why I wore a disguise, those are my fanboys!"

Silence reigned before Lambert looked over his shoulder and said with finality, "Get me my shotgun."

Just as Catty was about to dash for the potted plant, the door burst open, revealing a plethora of teen eye candy in vibrant pink speedos that had, sure enough, 'Catty!' printed across the ass.

"OHMYGOD IT'S CATTY! SQUEE!" Yelled the leader, a boy with spiky brown hair that looked oddly similar to a certain Keeper of the Scroll.

His declaration sent the fanboys running towards poor Catty, who had, Lambert noticed with irritation, once again jumped up on the couch, and was now using a lamp as some sort of barricade as she swung it back and forth rapidly shouting, "Back! Back you hunky fiends!"

"Feet off the couch!" Lambert protested, but it was lost in the chaos of fanboy chatter.

"Look, Catty! It's an amethyst bead for you! That's your birthstone!"

"Oh god Catty breathe on me!"

"I have your retainer from the seventh grade! There's even spit residue still on it!"

"I'll buy you a puppy! _Two _puppies! Two impossibly adorable puppies!"

"Here's a rock I found in the park that reminded me of you!"

"You are TEH HAWTT!"

Lambert watched the freak fest with wide eyes, even the Atrox paled in comparison to the terrors that the fanboys could unleash. No wonder why those Daughters of the Moon were so hard to kill!

"Doctor Bertlamb, can you help me?" Catty cried desperately as she dodged the undying affections.

He sighed for a moment, deep in thought, before it came to him. A light bulb flashed on over his head, but he suspected it to be because of faulty wiring rather than the sheer brilliance of his mind as he said, "It's so simple!" He exclaimed.

Catty pleaded, "What is?"

"The solution! Tell them that you're a lesbian!" He chirped, feeling mighty proud in his accomplishment.

"But I'm not!"

"Say it! There's precious little time!"

She gulped, and meekly whispered to the horde, "Guys, there's something you should know, I'm a-" She looked at Lambert in disbelief, "-Lesbian."

The crowd fell silent for a moment, and both she and Lambert felt secure in victory, and allowed a sigh of relief. But then, the fanboys became even _more _persistent.

"That is _so _hot!"

"I _knew _you and Vanessa had 'a thing'!"

"Girl on girl action! WOOT!"

Lambert sweatdropped, yet again stealing from the anime genre, "I guess that didn't work."

"We need a plan B!" Catty exclaimed, viciously kicking a fanboy that looked extremely similar to an ex-servus in the face.

He sighed, "I guess I'll just have to use the last resort."

"The last resort?" Catty questioned.

Lambert nodded grimly as he pulled out his shotgun from behind the potted fern.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

It was over quickly, as Lambert had a surprisingly good shot, and soon enough, the fanboys had disappeared. Leaving just himself, Catty, and a few spastically twitching teenage hunks on the floor.

"Now, you don't have to reload the gun, as there's unlimited ammo, but the aiming is a little tricky," The Evil Follower Turned Relationship Councilor explained as he handed the shotgun over to Catty, "But really, all you should need is a few warning shots and they'll scamper."

Catty heaved a sigh of relief, "Thank you Doctor Bertlamb, you're a lifesaver!"

Lambert shrugged, "If there's one thing I hate more than whiny teenaged Daughters of the Moon, it's horny teenaged boys who stalk whiny teenaged Daughters of the Moon."

"What was that?" Catty asked.

Lambert coughed, "Nothing."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

A little rushed, but did you honestly expect Lambert to take crap from _fanboys_? I thought not.

**For The Next Chapter:**

Stanton and Serena?

Jimena and Collin?

Vanessa and that one guy who's really not all that important?

Maggie and Hector?

Tymmie and Karyl? (I'm gonna do this one I've decided)

Derek and Tianna?

_**WALLY?**_

Laters

!nym!


	3. Animal Control

_Love by Lambert_

**Chapter One and a Half: Animal Control**

**AN**: This is not meant to be a real chapter, just a little something to appease the Wally fangirls and boys. God knows they're spreading like rabies. (nym giggles to herself on herlame raccoon pun)

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Lambert sighed as he viciously shredded another Jury Duty notice, wondering when 'whitey' would get a clue and discover that Lambert was totally against authority of any kind. Because he was a bad guy, and being a bad guy who loved authority was just stupidness.

Suddenly, his door creaked open, and Lambert's eyes shot up to see who his next client was.

Imagine his surprise, when something small, gray and raccoon-sized came sauntering into his office. He groaned and suddenly wished he hadn't given Catty his shotgun with unlimited ammo, as something raccoon-sized would make for excellent target practice. Plus, he could make it into a wicked sweet hat.

However, this raccoon-sized creature was actually…a raccoon! Lambert felt his jaw drop, especially when the thing climbed up onto his sofa, and lay on its back, its tiny two front paws crossed over its stomach in a contemplative position.

"Duh…?" Lambert decided to kick-start this appointment with a bang. "Could you please get off the couch? I just removed fanboy saliva from it."

In response, the raccoon appeared to roll its beady little eyes and Lambert just _knew _that this bizarre situation had to have been brought upon by his rebellious, 'acid-dropper Bert', teen days.

Then, the raccoon did the most unexpected thing in the history of mankind.

It began to bitch.

It 'talked' in a series of high-pitched squeaks, making animate gestures with its tiny claws as it began to retell the woes of Raccoon Mating Season, and how no one wanted to 'go steady' anymore and poor Wally the raccoon was just looking for love and _maybe _a little commitment. Then Wally began to talk about this 'fling' with Snuffles and how he was heartbroken when she told him she only saw their relationship as a booty-call despite his attempts to romance her. Lambert, himself, was amazed to discover that he was fluent in raccoon.

When it had finished, the raccoon heaved a sigh and looked at him expectantly, his head tilted.

Lambert blinked a few times, and stared back down at the raccoon.

He rubbed his face, "This is f(iretr)ucking ridiculous," He muttered, placing his glasses back on, "Doris!" He yelled to the secretary, "Can you call animal control? We've got a raccoon here who thinks he has relationship problems!"

Wally squeaked as he lowered his head, feeling very much put out indeed.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The _real _chapter will be up sometime this week . I just couldn't resist a short, stupid, Wally mini-chap that was written at 2 in the morning. Huzzah!

!nym!


	4. Lambert's Christmas Came Early

_Love by Lambert_

**AN: **Heh. When I say 'sometime this week', what I really mean is 'sometime this month.' (Nym promptly beats herself in the head with a shovel)

**Disclaimer Yo: **I do not own Naruto or Teen Titans

**Chapter Two: Lambert's Christmas Came Early**

Silence reigned, as Lambert stared across the office to the adjacent couch, trying desperately to stifle the giggles that were bubbling up within him.

Oh, this was _so _rich!

There, on the couch, was none other than everyone's favorite Prince of the Night, tossing his silky blonde mane out of his crystal blue eyes, and looking like he would rather endure a horde of horny teenage girls than be sitting in the office.

Next to him, was a severely huffed Serena, her arms crossed over her chest as she glowered at the innocent potted plant.

"Tee hee," Lambert couldn't resist the giggle as it spurted from his mouth.

Stanton looked at 'the councilor', "What's so funny?" He asked.

"Tee, nothing, hee," Lambert said, still giggling like a **fiend. **Or a **schoolgirl.**

The Prince of the Night turned and looked at his girlfriend, rolling his eyes, "You dragged me away from a Teen Titans marathon for _this_? A giggling relationship therapist that looks like he has the potential to be an evil overlord?"

Serena snorted and heaved an exasperated sigh, "Oh that is _so_ like you, Stanton!"

"Would you stop saying that!" Stanton said, irritated, "Of course I act like me, how else would I act?"

"You're inveterate!"

"Stop using words I don't understand!"

"Well, _maybe_ if you read a book once in a while instead of stealing virtue from teenage girls-"

"Oh, so we're back to that again are we?"

"You're such a manslut!"

"Where the hell did that come from?"

"I should have listened to my mother!"

"That doesn't make any sense, you haven't seen your mother since she abandoned you!"

"Thanks _so_ much for bringing that up Stanton! What are you trying to do, kill my self-esteem?"

"Actually," Lambert piped up, "He looks more like the type to devour hope raw from helpless innocents!"

Both of the bickering teens stopped their lovers' quarrel and turned to gape at their councilor, awed looks in their eyes.

"He's good," Stanton muttered to himself.

Serena cleared her throat and straightened her skirt in an attempt to look dignified after the previous outburst, "As you can see, Dr.-" She squinted her eyes and tried to read Lambert's 'Hello, my name is !' tag, "Bertlamb, we have some severe communication issues, isn't that right Stanton?" She asked, nudging her elbow into Stanton's side.

"Huh?" The Prince of the Night said, clearing out earwax with his pinkie finger.

Serena sent Lambert an annoyed 'see what I mean?' look, "And we were wondering if you could help us resolve some conflicts?"

Lambert sat there and mentally ran through his options.

On the one hand, he had been hired by Communicating Hearts to serve as a relationship therapist. It was his sacred duty in his new profession to salvage the love and trust that was formed between two individuals and make them one in unity. As a professional, he should give them his honest, non-biased advice and guide them to repairing their precious, _precious_ bond.

Yet, on the other hand…

It was Stanton.

And Serena.

And it was way too frickin' hilarious watching them yell at each other.

An evil grin crept across his face as he twiddled his fingers, "I would love to help."

"That's great, isn't it Stanton?"

"Huh?"

SMACK!

"Ow, what was that for?"

"Pay attention! This brave, slightly creepy man is willing to help save our precious, _precious _bond and you're playing with earwax! That's disgusting!"

"Stop yelling at me!"

"I will when you stop being so galling!"

"Again with the words I don't understand, why do you do this?"

"Achem," Lambert cleared his throat and readjusted his glasses, "I believe that the answer to your problems is simple."

"Sim…ple?" Stanton asked, confused.

Lambert nodded somberly, "You're not compatible. Not even remotely." He turned to Serena and gestured to Stanton, "Look at this guy."

Stanton had taken the opportunity to stare at Lambert, alternating his blinking between his eyes, "Camera one, camera two, camera one, camera two." He paused, and closed his left eye, "Creepy therapist is in front of the potted plant," He then closed his right, "Creepy therapist is in back of the potted plant."

Serena paled, "I see." Was all she said, resisting the urge to smack him again.

"And Stanton, you like being a notorious playboy, why settle for some Daughter of the Moon?" Lambert asked.

Lambert's prompting, relationship destroying, question went ignored as Stanton was otherwise preoccupied, "Front of the plant, back of the plant, front of the-"

"Right," Lambert said slowly, feeling ashamed that he had once been thwarted by this blonde, crazy, crazy Follower.

Lambert took out a notepad and pencil in an attempt to be professional, "Now, Serena since you're obviously the smarter one, why don't you tell us how these problems all started." He cleared his throat, "How did you two meet?"

Serena scratched the back of her neck, blushing sheepishly, "Well, Stanton had tried to seduce and corrupt my fellow Daughter of the-" She froze, realizing she had almost given away the BIG SECRET, "Um, Sorority, Vanessa, and I kicked his ass."

Stanton turned away from his entrancing blinking game, "I heard ass."

"Yes, yes you did." Lambert clarified for him, before ignoring him completely, "That doesn't sound like a healthy way to start a relationship missy." He said reproachfully.

She sighed, "I know but he was _so_ dreamy-" She girlishly swooned.

The faux Relationship Councilor turned to the other half, who was oddly enough, posing in a dangerously sexy way with his arms crossed over his chest and glaring into the distance, "I, uh, see what you mean." He muttered, tugging at his collar.

Serena gently nudged Stanton, "Honey, you're doing it again."

Stanton's glare intensified, "Doing what?"

"That weird, looming into the distance with angst, thing that you do."

"Oh," He said, slouching slightly, "My B, yo', my B."

Lambert sighed and clapped his hands loudly, "Can we _focus_ here people?" He demanded, feeling miffed. "I _am, _after all trying to save your precious, _precious_ bond."

Both of the teens, well kind of since Stanton was technically a senior citizen thirty times over, lowered their heads, "Sorry." They both muttered.

"Good," He said, flipping a page in the notepad, "Now, let's see, Serena I want you to say some things you hate about Stanton."

There was absolutely no hesitation, "Well, for one he's a total whore, always flirting with _everyone,_ and I mean _everyone._" She lowered her head and raised her eyebrows for emphasis, "He's the chosen prodigy of my most hated enemy, and he totally doesn't get along with _any _of my friends." She paused, "Oh! Plus he spends more time on his hair than I do!"

"Do not!" He immediately protested.

Lambert chewed on the end of his pencil, "Nope, I'm afraid I'm going to have to side with Serena on this one, your hair has a _ridiculous_ amount of sheen and dazzle."

Stanton resumed his 'staring into the distance with angst' pose.

"Alright, that was very good Serena," He stated giving her a nod of approval, he then faced Stanton, "Now, what are some things you can't stand about Serena?"

There was a pause, and he muttered something.

Lambert cupped his hand around his ear, "What was that? I didn't quite catch it."

He mumbled slightly louder.

Lambert shook his head, "Come again?"

"SERENA THINKS THE TEEN TITANS ARE STUPID!" He declared…angrily.

Lambert gasped, "No!"

Stanton nodded, "Yes!"

Lambert turned to the green-eyed Daughter, "What kind of horrible monster are you?"

Serena stared at them, bewildered, "Hello! Total whore/evil incarnate versus a stupid kid's show?"

Stanton pointed a finger, "See? See!"

The therapist narrowed his eyes, "You are just _sick._" He paused, "How can you not love the rag-tag team of preadolescent superheroes?"

Serena titled her chin up, indignant, "_I _likeNaruto!"

Lambert chucked the notepad onto the desk, pinching the bridge of his nose, "This is hopeless." He stared at the couple, "There's no way this could ever work. I mean, a Teen Titans fan and a Naruto fan? It just simply wasn't meant to be."

The two looked at each other somberly, before Stanton spoke up, "Wait!" He proclaimed, standing up and striking traditional gritty anti-hero pose, "I love Serena!"

Lambert tried not to mouth vomit, "Hokay."

Stanton scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, "So, I'll, uh, try to cope?"

"Hmm," Lambert said tapping his chin, "I have a plan so evil-um, I mean relationship saving that it just might work!"

Serena looked at him, her green eyes wide with hope, "What! Tell me! Tell me now!"

"Well, one of the things you said you didn't like about Stanton was that he didn't get along with your fellow Daughters of the Sorority," Lambert said, "So why don't we have a session with just him and say, oh, your 'I'll-bust-a-cap-in-your-ass' best friend?"

Serena seemed to mull this over, oblivious to the fact that her 'newly acquainted' relationship councilor knew that her best friend liked to bust caps in asses, "Sounds ok."

Stanton paled, "Hellz naw!" He protested, "Jimena's scary! Like _way_ scary!"

Lambert looked at him with a deadly seriousness, "It's the only thing that can protect the relationship between a Teen Titans fan and a Naruto fan."

Serena did her standard adorable pout, "Pwease Stanton-pooh bear?"

Stanton glared, huffing as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Guh-reat!" The evil therapist stated, clasping his hands together, "I'll pencil you in!"

The blonde's lip twitched, "I don't like you, mysterious relationship saver, you remind me of a maniacal traitorous knight whose only job skills include poorly guarding children from shadows and conspiring ill-conceived plots."

Lambert looked up from his daily planner, "What was that?" He asked, not having heard clearly.

Stanton coughed, "Nothing."

**Next Up:**

Serena and Stanton's Follow Up Appointment (with Jimena!)? – darn you Priestess for making me deviate from The Plan ™ ;)

Jimena and Collin?

Maggie and Hector?

Vanessa and that one guy?

Tymmie and Karyl?

Derek and Tianna?


	5. Stanton Has Skillz That Killz

_Love by Lambert_

**AN: **This is where I come up with a list of pity-inducing excuses about why this chapter was so late. Yep, riiiggghhhhtttt around heeerrrrrreeee.

Condensed version:

No internet is the suck

The suck means author has a hissy fit and decides not to write.

On with the story!

**Chapter Three: Stanton Has Skillz That Killz**

Stanton and Lambert sat alone in his office in silence as they waited for Jimena to arrive. This appointment was only for Stanton and Jimena, as Serena had decided to bail out at the last minute in order to give them 'quality time.' This had resorted in a general pouting from Stanton, and a general sense of glee from Lambert.

"So," Lambert asked _glee_fully, "How does it feel to be ditched by the love of your life to bond with her trigger-happy best friend?"

Stanton sniffled, "I don't want to talk about it!" He proclaimed before turning his head away from Lambert.

Just then, the door burst open, to reveal Jimena! "Alright, I'm here, where's the free cookies?" She turned and looked around, noticing that there were no free cookies and that she had been, in fact, masterfully duped by Serena into showing up. "Wait a minute…why is Stanton here? And where the hell are the cookies!" She slapped her palm against her face, "Damn! Serena used the free cookie ploy again to force me into an awkward situation!"

Lambert, sensing that this was his cue, stood up, "Welcome Jimena, to your scheduled therapy session with Stanton!"

Jimena's eyes widened, "Oh, hell no." She muttered, reaching for the waistband of her pants.

"Come on, Jimena my gangsta posse," Stanton attempted to speak to her in her own language as he stood up, his arms spread, "Serena pooh bear threatened to stop paying for my cable if I didn't make nice, so let's just hug this out-"

His endearingly warm speech was cut short when Jimena started firing off shots, for she had miraculously procured a handgun. "I'M GOING TO BUST A CAP IN YOUR ASS YOU SOUL-SUCKING, HORNY LEECH!" She bellowed, shooting up the place as Stanton frantically tried to dodge her shots, "THAT'S RIGHT, DANCE YOU BASTARD, DANCE!" She laughed maniacally.

Lambert groaned and began to drum his fingers on his desk in boredom. He watched Stanton dart back and forth across the room like the tiny ball from Pong as Jimena amazed him with her terribly inaccurate shooting skills. It was routine. That is, until a badly-aimed bullet hit Lambert's Couch, tearing a hole in the upholstery that had so far been forced to endure fan boy saliva, raccoon, and Catty's feet. That was the _last_ straw.

Lambert picked up his potted plant, and carefully aimed it at Jimena's head, "You do not shoot my couch!" He proclaimed as he launched it with significant force.

Unfortunately, well ok maybe fortunately, Lambert had terrible aim as well and it ended up connecting with Stanton's head.

"Guarh!" The Prince of the Night, who had spent centuries battling immortal creatures and fighting his own tormented soul, muttered before hitting the ground after he had been rendered defenseless by a common household plant.

Jimena, her blind and maniac rage halted as her moving target vanished, turned towards Lambert, "What was that for?" She asked incredulously, "Hitting someone in the head with a plant is unnecessarily cruel."

Lambert gaped at her with utmost confusion, rapidly gesturing back and forth between the bullet holes in the wall and _couch_, to the planting soil on the floor, "But, but-"

Jimena sighed and sat in a chair, "I suppose you saved me from a potentially embarrassing situation, I had just run out of bullets."

The relationship counselor could only drool at the wave of the stupid that had taken over his office.

Moments later, Stanton heaved himself up onto his own seat, looking extremely confused and nursing a bleeding nose, "What happened?" He mumbled, looking confused.

"Nothing!" Jimena barked, glaring at Lambert. Lambert didn't argue with her, he was scared of Jimena too.

After a prolonged moment of quiet due to Jimena's reign of oppressive terror, Lambert finally grew a pair and managed to cough uncomfortably, "So…" He started off.

"So," Jimena muttered.

"Yup," Lambert continued, drumming his fingers.

"Uhhuh," Jimena countered expertly.

"Indeed."

"Hm…"

"Mm…"

"Stanton!" Stanton suddenly cried with an ungodly amount of panache and enthusiasm, immediately causing the other occupants of the room to assume he had not yet recovered from the hit to the temple from the potted plant.

"Anyways," Lambert decided to continue as everyone in the room knew he had just been stalling, "We need to resolve some issues here." He stated calmly, pressing the record button on the tape player that he had hidden under his keyboard.

"What issues?" Jimena stated coyly…_too _coyly.

Lambert shook his head in mild disappointment, "Heemehnah," He stated adding extra emphasis on the pronunciation of her name, "I think we both know that skirting around the issue isn't going to solve anything."

The ex gangsta began to pick at her nails, "I don't have an issue with Stanton."

Stanton's mouth dropped open, "What do you mean? What about all the times you tried to kill me!"

Jimena looked positively baffled, "Why, I've never tried to kill you Stanton! Such a thing would upset my bestest friend in the whole world and possibly damage our everlasting friendship."

"Liar!" Stanton proclaimed, launching himself at his girlfriend's best friend.

Her reflexes were catlike, as she whipped out her gun and cocked it in a millisecond, "Freeze whiteboy!" She said coldly.

The counselor sighed, "Jimena, please put your piece back in your pants, Stanton, stop accusing Jimena of trying to kill you."

Stanton's lower lip began to tremble, "But, you just saw-"

"Stanton, you're being a child." Lambert reprimanded.

His lip quivered even more violently, and Stanton lowered his head sadly, "'Kay." He said pathetically before muttering, "I am not a child. Stinkwad."

"So let's try to reach some common ground-" Lambert started but was cut off as Stanton 'discretely' kicked Jimena in the shin, absently whistling a cheerful tune to drown out Jimena's rapid swearing.

"Goddammit you piece of shit! I'm going to go Cinco de Mayo on your ass!"

Stanton stuck out his tongue, "That doesn't even make sense as Cinco de Mayo is a day of celebration in Mexican culture!"

"I'll kill you!"

"Try! I'm Immortal!"

"Then why did you start going chicken shit after I fired-"

"So you admit that you were trying to kill me!"

"People-" Lambert started.

"I was not! My goal was only for unbearable pain and suffering to be extended on you!" Jimena defended herself.

"That's not cool Jimena."

"Stanton-"

"Not cool."

"PEOPLE!"

This got the bickering pairs' attention, as they turned to the sudden outburst that required all CAPITAL LETTERS.

Lambert sighed, "I wish it didn't have to come to this, but it seems to be the only way," He said as he reached into _the bottom drawer_ for the only thing that could possibly bring these two into a non-hostile relationship. It was the _last resort_, but it was _their only chance. _

"Um, why do you have a do' rag?" Stanton asked cautiously as Lambert procured a black and white checkered do' rag along with some iced-out bling and a standard-issue ghetto-blaster. And yes, it was a very big _bottom drawer._

"We're going to settle this the honorable way," Said Lambert, snapping on a powder-blue sweatband over his forehead.

"Are you crazy?" Jimena asked, wondering what was going on in that slightly greasy head of his.

He nodded, "Quite, crazy fo' old skool rapz, son." He stood up, "Fo' shizzle."

A moment of silence ensued.

Lambert awkwardly cleared his throat, "Anyways, the only way to save this relationship is to have a gangsta rap battle between the two of you."

"No fair!" Stanton declared, pointing at Jimena, "She's got street-cred! She'll win fo' shiz-ure!"

Lambert wagged his finger condescendingly, "Now, now Stanton, you forget, Jimena's a girl."

"Hey!" Jimena shouted, standing up and reaching towards a knife-shaped pocket.

Stanton, however, seemed to think this over, "You're right Dr. Bertlamb, and as a probable mild concussion has made me more agreeable to half-baked schemes of friendship, hand me that do' rag."

"Ok, but then Jimena gets the bling," Lambert stated, "It's only fair."

"Score!" Jimena yelled excitedly, gathering the tripped-out gear like a squirrel gathering acorns.

Stanton expertly tied the do' rag on top of his gorgeous blonde hair and stood stock-stiff, "I'm ready." He stated, and suddenly, the theme from Rocky IV 'The Eye of The Tiger' sprung into the air and Stanton mocked a few air-punches.

Jimena placed the ice around her neck and inserted the platinum retainer into her mouth, "Me too!" She proclaimed, flashing her awesome grill for emphasis.

Lambert nodded and cleared the two chairs from the area as he placed the ghetto-blaster on his desk, "Now, I'm looking for a clean battle, and especially no 'yo' momma' jokes 'cuz that shit is straight up whack." He declared, looking at the two wannabe rap artists, "Who wants to go first?"

"I do!" Jimena declared.

"But-" Stanton protested.

Jimena cracked her knuckles and flashed some random gang signs, and Stanton knew that he had to back down.

"Alright Jimena, you go first," Lambert stated, pressing play on the ghetto-blaster and recycled rap beats filtered through the room.

Jimena bobbed her head for a couple of beats, _"Yo, yo, yo!" _She started, before she busted into ill lyrics, "_My name's Jimena and I'm from the streets, I jack cars and make kick-ass rhymes over beats!"_

"Werd." Stated Lambert.

"_I'll beat you bloody and steal your cash, this guy here,"_ She pointed to Stanton, _"Is just some punk candy-ass!" _Stanton looked offended, but she continued with no regard to his feelings, that sadistic bitch_, "Me and my crew, we're no team to loose, and this guy here smells like he's been drinking booze!"_

"Only non-alcoholic alcohol!" Stanton protested, because despite his evil and cruel personality, he wanted to be a good role model for kids.

Jimena rolled her eyes, _"Like I said, I'm straight up gangsta, this guy here ain't nothing but a playa! Peace." _She muttered, nodding her head to signify she was done.

"I don't know what that means!" Stanton argued childishly.

Lambert sighed, "That doesn't matter Stanton, you're up."

The music began to play again and Stanton froze, realizing just then that he had grown up during the crusades, perhaps the most least gangsta time period of all. He exhaled slowly, he had to do this! Stanton had something to prove goddamit!

"Alright," Stanton began, "Here goes:

_You got to loose yourself in the music the moment ya got it_

_You better take off all your clothes, cuz it's getting' hot in herre_

_And y'all aint nothing but a golddigger, you aint messin' wit' no broke, de broke_

_And they love to call me big poppa, throw your hands in the air if you a true playa_

_Then check me out cuz I'm ridin' dirrrty_

_I like big butts and I cannot lie, you other brothers can't deny, when a girl walks in with an itty bitty waist and a round thing in your face you get Sprung!_

_But don't be fooled by the rocks that I got, I'm just S-Ton from the block_

_And then I need you to walk this way, talk this way_

_Then just shake, shake, shake, shake, shimmy shake shake_

_Gangsta's Paradise!"_

He threw his hands in the air after he had completed the 'song' and Lambert slowly clicked off the tape machine in the ghetto-blaster. "Um, well, Stanton, that was…um…wow. What a poor usage of odd and copyrighted rap lines in some type of music fusion."

"Thanks!" Stanton beamed.

Lambert coughed into his hand, embarrassed for the poor once-nemesis, "Well I guess we all know who the winner is-" But he was cut off!

"That was beautiful!" Jimena exclaimed, her hands clasped and tears streaming down her face. Not tattooed ones either. Real ones.

"Really?" Lambert questioned incredulously.

"Your words moved me to the extent that I don't hate you for possibly converting my closest friend to the ways of hell-bent and crazed evil!" Jimena cried, "Even I, a hardened ex-gangsta with no respect for authority had to love your awesome skillz that killz.

Stanton blushed, "Why, well thank you!"

"Let's hug!" Jimena proclaimed.

"Okay!" Stanton squeed.

They hugged.

Jimena turned to Lambert, "Thank you Dr. Bertlamb for helping me see Stanton as a true BAMF!"

"It was no problem, young woman with a criminal record!" Lambert stated, getting over his shock.

Jimena seemed to think something over, "You know, you may be able to help me with my _other _relationship problem too!"

"It'll cost double," Lambert said quickly. _Too_ quickly. "Returning and follow-up appointments always cost double."

Stanton seemed to mull this over, "Wait a minute-"

"Quiet you!" Lambert cut off.

"Anyways, I'll talk to Collin," Jimena rattled on, completely oblivious to the scam she was being subjected to, "But I gotta run! Caps to bust in asses and all that!"

"Godspeed," Lambert said solemnly.

As soon as Jimena had left the room, Stanton turned towards to his counselor, "Well, I better be going as well, Serena promised 'quality' time tonight," He reached into his pockets, found nothing, and then began to frantically pat himself. "Hey!" He yelled in distress, "I think Jimena stole my wallet when she hugged me!"

"Now calm down Stanton, it was probably just a-" Lambert attempted to console.

"Oh, no!" Stanton screamed, bolting out of the office, "You're going down biatch!" He hollered as he chased after the quickly retreating Jimena.

Lambert sighed and slumped into his chair. "And I thought the power of rap would bring them together.

**Next Up:**

Jimena and Collin?

Maggie and Hector?

Vanessa and that one guy?

Tymmie and Karyl?

Derek and Tianna?


	6. Innuendo, Much?

_Love by Lambert_

**AN: **This chapter has a lot of innuendo, but that's all it is. Really. Anyways, to make things more interesting, Lambert's never met Penelope or Hector before. Sorry this chap's kind of short. And..._special_...

**Chapter Four: Innuendo, Much?**

Lambert was taken by surprise when his door opened to reveal a harmless older woman and a strapping young lad clad in Dungarees. He exhaled slowly, finding relief in the fact that for ONCE he would have a NORMAL relationship to fix, the loving relationship between a dear sweet grandmother and her grandson.

What a sucker.

"Please, sit down!" Lambert said smiling happily, ready to offer lemonade, or sticky buns, or whatever else these two wanted because they were the first non-Greek deity/lackey of Greek deity to come into his office today!

The Dungaree man pulled out the chair for the old woman, and Lambert gave a sickly sweet smile at the act of kindness for the elderly.

"I'm Dr. Bertlamb!" He chirped, extending his hand.

"I'm Hector, and this here's Penelope-" Said the man.

"Please, call me Maggie," The old woman corrected pleasantly.

Lambert's eyebrows bunched together for a moment, confused at how the elderly lady got 'Maggie' from 'Penelope', he shrugged, oh well she was probably just crazy…or senile. Probably crazy.

"So, Maggie and I came in here because we've been having problems," Hector began.

"It's embarrassing really," Maggie continued, blushing slightly.

Lambert nodded, knowing that _this _problem would be a piece of cake.

"You see, we've been having some difficulties…" Maggie continued, her blush increasing tenfold.

"In the bedroom," Hector finished.

Well, whatever Lambert had been expecting, it most _certainly _hadn't been this! He shook his head slowly , trying to clear his thoughts, "Um…who has been having the problems?"

"Myself and Hector," The crone said, placing a hand on Dungaree boy's knee and smiling.

Lambert felt his jaw drop and a shudder went through his spine, "But! But you're the boy's _grandmother_! That's illegal and disgusting!"

Hector's eyebrows drew together, "Penelope isn't my grandmother-"

Lambert released the breath he had been holding.

"-She's my girlfriend."

When he saw the old bat nod in confirmation, he felt as if he were about to dry heave, "GROSS!" He proclaimed, turning and pointing an incriminating finger at Maggie, throwing professional grace to the wind, "You're WAY too **OLD **for THAT! You could break a hip!"

Maggie had the dignity to look offended, "I'll have you know, Mr. Bertlamb, that Hector gives me a leg up-"

"AHHH!" Lambert cried, slapping both of his hands on either side of his head over his ears, "NO MORE, NO MORE!"

"Excuse me, but aren't you a professional?" Hector said, irritated with the counselor's reactions, "You're supposed to help us!"

"Not with THAT!" Lambert replied, mental horror still affecting him.

"We'll pay you double," Maggie offered.

There was a pause.

"So how long have you been seeing each other?"

The boy toy shook his head sadly, "Not long enough, we've been in the dark lately."

Maggie nodded, "We thought that progressing our relationship with the times would help with that."

Lambert's left eye twitched slightly as he attempted to dispel the creepiness, "So has it?"

Hector turned slightly red and began tugging at his collar, "Well, you see, we ran into some difficulties…"

"Hector isn't quite as experienced at it as I am," Maggie said, sending a discrete wink to the Dungaree lad who turned positively vermillion. Lambert considered asking for triple pay.

"Well, it would have been a lot easier if Penelope had gotten a decent grip on it!" Hector countered, "But her hands just weren't big or sturdy enough!"

Lambert's right eye began to twitch as well.

Maggie put a hand on her hip, "It was slippery! And how is this my problem? You started to _lick _it!"

Hector grit his teeth, "Well, _someone _had to get the electricity going! And your 'special skills' sure as hell weren't helping!"

"It didn't help with you yelling 'screw it! screw it!' in my ear the entire time!" The old lady huffed.

"You were taking way too long to get it up!"

Lambert slowly took out his day planner from his _bottom drawer_, knowing that he would be the one needing a therapist after today's meeting.

"Eugh, and the way you think you can just roll it over all the time, whenever you feel like it! You make me sick!" Maggie proclaimed.

"You were the one who wanted to experiment!" Retorted Hector.

Violent tremors were going through Lambert as he attempted to reign in his sanity. The hand clutching his pencil snapped it in half.

"And _then_ you invited all of your friends over to watch us do it! IT'S CALLED PRIVACY PENELOPE! I'M **SHY**!" Hector yelled.

"I thought the girls could help, lord knows they're absolutely reckless with this kind of thing!" Maggie countered.

"I didn't want their help," The younger man pouted.

She rolled her eyes, "You _needed_ their help, you couldn't even put the plug in the socket!"

"Well _maybe _the socket was too big!"

His old partner gasped, "I'll have you know I paid good money to get that thing fixed up-"

"**THAT IS ENOUGH!" **Lambert hollered, standing up quickly and pointing to the door, "You two are just _sick_! Never in all my minutes of relationship counseling have I ever seen a couple with such _vulgar _mannerisms as you two!" He inhaled, his face as red as cherry Kool-Aid, before he turned to face Maggie, "You should be ashamed! Using such a strapping young lad as this as your boy toy for your sick fantasies!" Then he swerved to face a gaping Hector, "And you! You're even worse! She's OH-HULD! You could kill her!" He exhaled, heaving violently.

Hector looked nervously back and forth between Maggie and the irate therapist, "Perhaps we shouldn't tell him about the time with the Easy Bake Oven?"

"GET **OUT!**" Lambert declared, making sure to launch the old woman out of his office first, followed by the hunky teen. He strode over to the door and before slamming it shut, he yelled, "AND DON'T COME BACK YOU SICKOS!"

Penelope and Hector waited a few minutes in the hallway, blinking in confusion. It was Maggie who spoke up first.

"I didn't realize they took installing new light bulbs so seriously in this time."

Hector sighed, "We just wanted some advice, there was no need for that sort of reaction."

"Very unprofessional," Maggie commented.

Hector nodded slowly, "Quite."

**Up Next:**

Jimena and Collin?

Vanessa and that one guy?

Tymmie and Karyl?

Derek and Tianna?

Til Next Time

!nym!


	7. Tymmie Brings Sexyfront!

_Love by Lambert_

**AN: **This is a **slash **chapter, if that's not your thing, feel free to skip it . For everyone else, enjoy!

This is totally nuts. I just wrote it all in a CRAZY mood. CRAZY I SAY! -.o Don't expect heaps of logic.

Lambert actually gives real advice in this one! Gasp!

**Chapter Five: **Tymmie Brings Sexyfront!

There were a few things that this relative half day of relationship counseling had taught Lambert about his inner self. One, he was unnaturally attached to his sofa. Two, he thought that Catty needed a cooler wardrobe. Three, Serena hates _Teen Titans, _and there fore must be destroyed. Four, people who get senior discounts at IMAX theaters should no longer be permitted to have sex, especially with minors- especially with minors with _Easy Bake Ovens_.

Little did Lambert know, these life lessons would ultimately never be useful again as they happened under utterly bizarre occurrences. He would, however, be ever wary of Easy Bake Ovensfor the rest of his hate mongering life.

His inner voyage of self discovery was effectively shipwrecked when he heard angry shouts from beyond his office door. Startled, he slowly stood up, hesitantly approaching the door, "Doris? Is something amiss?" He said in his best 'concerned' voice.

"Dr. Bertlamb, I need your help!" Came the frantic yelp of his secretary, the sound of a stapler being loaded echoing the area. And yes, Lambert just _knew _it was a stapler, the ways of all office supplies were ingrained into evil overlords' minds during basic fiend training.

Lambert quickly drop kicked the door open, not even thinking about the cost to replace door hinges (roughly three dollars, but Lambert is a cheap bastard), as he came out.

"What's wrong Doris?!" His eyes practically bulged out of their sockets as he saw the pair that were harassing his poor, helpless secretary.

Tymmie and Karyl stood in front of the receptionist's desk, Karyl was leaning against the wall and lifting up his sweater, showing Doris his stomach piercing, while Tymmie hovered on the counter, purring slightly.

Tymmie winked coyly, "Hey, babe, want to see _my _dark side?"

Lambert's face twisted in nausea for various reasons. One, Doris was approximately seventy years old and had a huge hairy mole smack-dab on the middle of her forehead. Two, Karyl's stomach was so pale it reflected sunshine onto said mole, making it glow slightly. Three, that was the _worst _pickup line in the history of forever! Lambert had taught Tymmie better than that! He hadn't even used the coveted "Baby you must be an adverb because you sure do modify me' bit. And four, Lambert found himself yet again making a mental list in his head.

"Hey, you kids cut that out!" He said for good measure, shaking his fist into the air.

The pair of buffoons both ignored him, as Tymmie focused more on the secretary, "Why don't I show you a full moon-AGK!"

As you could assume, Tymmie was cut off by Doris launching a staple into his eye with her fully loaded stapler.

"THE PAIN!" He screamed, clawing at his eyes, running about frantically.

"Tymmie stop! She'll just shoot you again!" Karyl recommended as helpfully as he could, still trying to get Doris to see his awesome belly button bling.

"I'm going to call the authorities!" Doris said, dialing the 'authorities' who were now on speed dial due to the raccoon incident a few moments ago.

Lambert slammed his palm into his face, now flustered. Why did people equate 'counselor' with 'baby sitter'?

"That's it!" He proclaimed, rolling up his sleeve and shaking his fist with newly found vigor. He stormed over to Tymmie and proceeded to smack him across the face, "Buck up! That's only a tiny bit of metal lodged in your eye! In MY day, people impaled each other using fish bones!"

Tymmie looked at him in amazement, completely forgetting about the possible tetanus he was acquiring in his eye. He squinted, wincing slightly as he irritated the metal, "You seem really familiar."

But Lambert ignored him, already focusing on his next target. A finger was thrust into Karyl's face, "And you! Pull your shirt down goddamn it, belly button piercings were _so _over in the nineties!"

Karyl lowered his sweater, ashamed.

The love doctor was on a roll now, as he stomped over to the desk, taking the phone line and ripping it in half only using his teeth, "And you missy!" He said wagging a finger, "Um…Don't make phone calls!" He paused, "And you should probably stop with the shooting people in the eye thing."

Doris slowly lowered the phone piece onto the counter and placed the stapler back in the filing desk. "Now I can't order pizza," She said somberly, head hanging.

Lambert clapped his hands together, "That's the end of this chapter."

But it wasn't!

Karyl looked at the crazed relationship fixer, "Are you the counselor?" He asked carefully.

Lambert stared at the young man, then at Tymmie, then back to Karyl. "Oh god no." He proclaimed as reason dawned upon him.

"Stanton said to come here for our relationship problems," Tymmie stated matter-of-factly, "He said a Dr. Bertlamb worked wonders on his uber secret love affair with Serena that everyone knows about already."

Lambert's fist clenched. Damn that Stanton! He had thwarted him yet again! He evaluated the newest couple, "Doris, how much are they paying me?"

Doris held up a money-sack, that's right, a sack full of money with a green dollar sign painted on it, "This much!"

He sighed and placed his hands on his hips, walking over to Tymmie. In one swift movement he removed the staple from his eye without any pain, because he was that damn cool. "Come into my lair-I mean office," He said tiredly, walking into his office with the busted door, gesturing for them to follow him.

As soon as everyone was situated, Lambert turned to his newest clients, "So, what can I help you with? Girl troubles? Friendship spat?"

Karyl's eyes became shifty as he glanced around the room, he said in a whisper, "Actually, I _think _my boyfriend's gay!"

Lambert's fragile grip on sanity became as frictionless as a slip n' slide, "WHAT?!" He proclaimed, looking at Tymmie, "YOU'RE KARYL'S BOYFRIEND?!"

Tymmie appeared rather confused, as the former staple-punctured eye had hindered his depth perception slightly, "Yes?"

"AND YOU'RE GAY?"

Karyl's mouth hung open, "Hey, I whispered that to you! That means I wanted you to keep it a secret!"

Now it was Tymmie's turn to look mildly offended, swerving in his seat to look at his _boyfriend, _"You think I'm gay!" He proclaimed.

"Well, you are awfully color-coordinated…" He trailed off.

Tymmie's eyes attempted to widen indignantly, "I only wear black!"

"That's matching!"

The _Infidi _Follower stared at Karyl, "You only wear black too!"

Dead. Silence.

"OhmygodI'mgaytoo!" Karyl cried in terror.

Lambert stood up abruptly, slamming his palms on the desk, "Everyone calm the hell down!" He growled, clearing his throat, "Let's just get to the bottom of this, alright?" The pair of idiots shut up immediately recognizing Proper Authority when Lambert demonstrated it.

"Now…." Lambert trailed off, straightening his imaginary tie, "What exactly is the problem here?"

Karyl seemed even more uneasy as he became wary of the one-eye death glare Tymmie was sending, "I'm pretty sure my boyfriend's gay."

"Am not!"

"Tymmie, please," Karyl cut him off.

"Wait, you said Tymmie is your boyfriend?" Lambert clarified, trying to make sense of this surely opiate-induced, batshit, scenario.

Karyl nodded.

"So…that would imply that you're….dating?" Lambert chose his words carefully.

Two nods.

Lambert directed his stare from Tymmie to Karyl, inwardly thinking that his protégé could do _much _better than _Karyl, _"Then wouldn't that make you…gay?"

"**NO!"** The word was screamed by the pair, and Lambert felt himself rocketed back in his chair a bit.

"It means we're in a gay relationship!" Tymmie explained indignantly.

Lambert shook his head, "How is that different?"

"We still like the bitches," Karyl clarified bluntly.

"I…see…" Lambert said, still totally not getting it, but deciding to move on because time was money. "And what's the problem?"

Tymmie crossed his arms and huffed, "Well, since Karyl thinks I'm gay, it's OBVIOUS that we aren't in an open relationship!"

"I'm as open with you as I can be, Tymmie, you are part of a band of traitors!" Karyl proclaimed with flourish, clasping his hands over his heart.

"But our love can't grow with secrets!" Tymmie continued.

Lambert listened to this exchange and did the only thing he thought was suiting. He slapped them both across the backside of the head. "First thing first, this is Bertlamb's house, and in Bertlamb's house we don't whine about non-growing love in a sensitive manner. Kapiche?"

Both nodded, their heads throbbing slightly.

"And second things, well, second. We're men. Not pansies." He shook his head, "Repeat: Men. Not Pansies."

"Men. Not Pansies," Karyl replied, followed by Tymmie.

Lambert folded his hands on the desk in front of him, "Now, without epic poetry or a crud load of _feelings_, what's the issue?"

"I think Karyl's just jealous of my obvious sex appeal," Tymmie shot out, and it was apparent that he had been wanting to say that for awhile.

"What! I am _so _not! You're bald!" Karyl protested.

"Shaved, not bald! That's dangerous and rogue. The chicks dig that." Tymmie responded quickly.

"Oh yeah? Then why is it that you always get fake phone numbers?"

"I do not! Puh-lease, Karyl, I brought Sexyfront!"

The counselor cleared his throat, "It's Sexyback." Lambert was a huge Justin Timberlake fan.

Tymmie blinked owlishly at him for a few seconds, "That doesn't make any sense."

"Well, _I _think that our relationship isn't as open as it should be!" Karyl broke in, determined to get away from the discussion of Tymmie's sex appeal as it was making him think impurely.

Tymmie looked at his not-gay boyfriend, "I'm always honest! Except when I'm not."

Lambert stared at Karyl levelly and said, "He has a point."

"But when do I know, Tymmie? When do I kno-ho?!" He proclaimed dramatically, "I can't read your mind Tymmie!"

There was a pause, before Tymmie angrily yelled, "Hey, yes you can!"

Normally, Lambert would reprimand Tymmie for bursting out a secret, his telepathic powers, like that. But to be honest, he had a migraine and was hella bored. That's right, hella.

"So let me see if I'm following this," Lambert said, raising his hands up, "Tymmie thinks Karyl's jealous of his sex appeal, and Karyl thinks that Tymmie needs to be more honest?"

Both seemed to consider this, before nodding.

"Want to know what I think?" Lambert prodded, his voice sickeningly sweet.

"Um…sure?" Karyl supplied.

"You are both idiots."

The pair gaped at the love doctor with obvious astonishment, and Tymmie whispered at Karyl, "Can he say that?"

"Come on, people. Let's be truthful, as Karyl seems to hold that in high esteem for some bizarre reason, neither of you are exactly God's gift to bitches." Lambert continued, the pair looked mildly offended at first, then decided to shrug it off, because in denial they were not.

Lambert sighed before speaking again, "And honesty in a relationship between you two punks? Karyl you were, in essence, _flashing _a seventy year old woman, and Tymmie was hitting on that seventy year old woman. Now, it may be something in the air around here, as recently a lot of people have been canoodling with senior citizens," Lambert inwardly cringed when he thought of Dungarees, "But I think it's crystal clear that both of you lack moral fiber."

"But, what do we do, All Mighty Doctor?" Tymmie pondered aloud.

"It's obvious. Be evil, be horny, be young." Lambert bestowed upon the newer Followers. "Don't whine about honesty and all that crap, because it makes you sound like a bunch of man-daffodils. And _everyone _hates man-daffodils."

Silence reigned as the boys mentally digested this like a hawk literally digests rabbit road kill.

"Processed?" Lambert chirped sweetly.

They shrugged.

"Kinda," Tymmie muttered.

"I guess," Karyl mumbled.

"Great! Now get the hell out of my office!"

**Up Next?**

Jimena/Collin

Tianna/Derek

Vanessa and the one guy?


	8. Vaughn and Michelle

_Love by Lambert_

**AN: **A little shorter and stranger than usual…but I just really liked the idea of Michael being Vanessa's bitch, almost as much as I like the idea of Lambert and Vanessa 'bonding' .

**Chapter Six: Vaughn and Michelle**

Lambert eyed the pair sitting across from him out of the corner of his vision as he focused the rest on his jump shot, aiming a crumpled ball of paper into his wastebasket. He arched the shot, and it hit the rim. Lambert sent a cautious stare at them before carefully picking it up and lobbing it in the can, "YES! I WIN AT LIFE!" He proclaimed, throwing his arms up into the air.

"This is stupid," Came a grumble from the beautiful blonde teenager, who Lambert vaguely remembered as one of the 'Daughters of the Sorority'.

"Vanessa, it was an order from the school nurse…" Came the hunky man-god to her left.

The pair in front of him was the one he was least willing to help. After all, they had been sent here by the state, and _everyone _knows the state always pays crap. According to the file that the nurse from their high school had sent Lambert, he was to evaluate them based on their stability as a couple. According to the nurse's report, the boy, Michael, had been into her office repetitively, making a fuss and seeming 'traumatized'. Lambert just sighed and patted his tummy. It was almost lunch time, and he wanted a hoagie _really _bad.

Vanessa rolled her doe eyes, "Really, Montey, all that crap she said about you having 'mental trauma' was such a load of-"

"It's Micha-"

"So you're the two who had to come here? I'm Dr. Bertlamb," Lambert said off-handedly, turning towards them now that he had proved his infallible superiority via basketball with office supplies. He grabbed his handy dandy note…pad from his desk and prepared to make notes for his evaluation.

The boy nodded, "When I…cried in the nurse's office, she thought it'd be best if we sought professional help."

Lambert snorted, "It's obvious who wears the pants in this relationship, so from now on, I'm just going to call you Michelle, got that?"

"But-!"

"Aaannddd," Lambert drawled out, flipping a page over in his notepad before saying frivolously, "I don't care." He stared at Vanessa, "Your new name is Vaughn."

"_I'm _the boy!" Michael claimed, offended.

Vanessa smiled, lighting up the room with that impossible wattage, "C'mon Micah, it will be fun!" She chirped, hair dazzling like stars, obviously satisfied that she was the leader.

Michael appeared slightly flustered, "Actually, it's Micha-"

"Now Michelle, let's start with you, because in all honestly it will be much more exciting crushing your self esteem into miniscule fragments that are barely recognizable," Lambert said matter-of-factly, pen poised at the ready, prepared to strike at any moment. Like a ninja. Doing ninja-ey things. "How did you guys meet?"

"Vanessa-"

"Who?" Lambert interrupted petulantly.

Michael glared at him. Lambert knew _damn _well who. He sighed, grudgingly, when he saw the therapist wasn't going to budge on this one, "Vaughn-"

"Oh-hoh. Vaughn."

He grit his dandruff-white teeth, "Yes. Vaughn. Anyways, she came to one of my shows."

"A fashion show?" Lambert questioned innocently, as he scribbled down scribbles.

Michael's eyes widened, "Wait, what?"

"A fashion show," The once evil overlord pronounced carefully, "You know, lots of fabric, dazzle, and magic?"

The teenage boy scratched his head while looking confused, making him appear to be some sort of attractive gorilla, "Why on earth would I have a fashion show?"

Lambert chuckled to himself, amused, "Sorry, my 'b, I thought you were…well…anyways!" He cleared his throat, "What kind of show was it, Michelle?"

Michael fought desperately to quell the anger that was rising due to this bizarre, slightly unsettling man, "My band was playing-"

"A boy band?"

"Well, I suppose."

"Like NSYNC? I love them!"

"No! Not like NSYNC!" Michael argued quickly, "We all play our own instruments, so we're an edgy and alternative boy band."

Lambert pursed his lips, like he was eating a sour lemon, "Oh, I see." He sighed and scratched the line off of his notepad that said 'Bye Bye Bye Cover'. "So what's your band's name? Is it hip happenin'?"

Michael scoffed, tossing his hair back, finally excited to talk about _him _for a moment, "Oh, it's happenin' alright, our band's name is-" He paused for a moment, mouth hanging open slightly, "It's…" He trailed off, squinting into the distance, "I _know _I know it! It's a really awesome name, I know it is!"

The therapist groaned and swiveled on his swivelly chair to face Vanessa, "Vaughn, your weaker half seems to have forgotten his band's name, do you know it?"

She blinked, "Actually, it's _our _band now, since I'm their lead singer! And I renamed it Sparkle and the Minstrels!"

"That's _totally _not our name!" Michael protested instantly, "No WAY is that our band's name!"

Vanessa faced him, all smiles, "What do you mean, Mickey?"

"It's Michael-"

"Vaughn asked you a question Michelle," Lambert said reproachfully.

"I mean that there's no way I'd let my smooth and uber hip band be named something like-" He paused, mid gesture with his hand, and turned slowly towards Vanessa, realizing he had made a horrible, horrible mistake.

To the outward spectator, she was sitting there, peppy and cute, hands folded primly in her lap. However, to the trained eye, such as her long-term boyfriend Michael's or Lambert's, relationship counselor extraordinaire, a hideous deadly aura was surrounding her.

"I'm sorry, Michelin, did you just say Sparkle and The Minstrels was a 'lame' name?" She asked carefully, doing air quotes.

Michael swallowed slowly, terrified of provoking Vanessa's **dark side.** "It's a fantastic name, Vanessa, but it's just not-"

"I don't understand, if it's not lame, then it ought to be good enough for your soft acoustic rock, no?" Black clouds accumulated around Vanessa's head, and Lambert wasn't sure if it was just a trick of the light, but her eyes appeared to flash red.

Michael shivered slightly, before lowering his head, "Yes ma'am." He whispered.

"Fabulous!" She cried happily, clasping her hands, the evil aura disappearing instantly.

Lambert watched her, then gaped at Michael. This Blonde Daughter was…inspiring! They way she had injected pure, unadulterated terror into the hapless hunk made him almost respect her! It was evil at it's purest form! Clearly, Lambert had much to learn.

He stared her straight in the eye, "Teach me." He begged stonily.

She shrugged flippantly, "Maybe later." She then paused and examined her nails, "Minny, I'm like way bored," She said flatly, "Can we leave to go shopping and have you buy me things?"

Michael's eyes widened, "But, what about the session-?"

"I don't feel like it anymore." She said evenly.

"Vanessa, I think we really need to reevaluate our relationship, I feel taken advantage of all of the ti-"

The evil aura descended yet again, "I'm sorry, were you expressing free will?" She questioned, her voice like a particularly malicious cheerleader.

His head lowered again, shaking visibly. "No ma'am."

Vanessa looked at Lambert, "Dr. Bertlamb, is it okay if me and my hubby bail out early? There's a pair of ridiculously expensive shoes I have no interest in wearing but just _need _to buy with Minestrone's cash."

"It's Michae-"

"Oh stuff it, no one cares." Vanessa said giving him 'The Hand'.

Michael knew he had to surrender.

Lambert looked at her, corroded and greasy black hearts in his eyes, "Of course! You're my role model!"

Vanessa laughed, her voice like a peaceful meadowlark once again, as she stood up pinched his cheek, "You are just _so _adorable!" She complimented.

Lambert beamed.

"Let's go Man Slave," She said harshly, spinning on her heel and sauntering out the door.

Michael leaned over the desk, a desperate look in his eye, "Please, talk to my parents, I haven't been allowed to visit them in two months! Or call the cops! A priest! SOMETHING!" He said harshly.

Lambert pretended to just notice him, "I'm sorry Michelle, I was too busy going back to NOT **CARING**!"

Michael's lower lip quivered and he ran out of the office, before the groan man could see the tears in his eyes.

The relationship counselor smiled as he leaned back in his chair, hands folded across his stomach, "What the perfect couple," He said admiringly.

**Up next? (IT'S THE FINAL VOTE! LE GASP!)**

Tianna and Derek

Jimena and Collin

OR

Tymmie and Doris?

Haha, just kidding!

Really.

Don't be creepy.

!nym!


	9. Haikus and Chair Kicking

_Love by Lambert_

**AN: **_Disco Dancing _I accept your challenge ::Does evil Mortal Kombat laughter::

This chapter is dedicated to softballgirl9411as her review about Derek's inferiority complex inspired this .

I think I just wanted an excuse to use Haiku. For those that don't know, it's a form of poetry with three lines. The first line has five syllables, the second seven syllables, and the third five syllables again.

**Chapter Seven: Haikus and Chair Kicking**

Lambert sighed as he gingerly poured some grounds into the filter of his office's automatic coffee machine, carefully adding water in the water-holder thing as he pressed start. A few seconds later, pure black, chunky coffee streamed out into the pot and the love doctor quickly poured some into a Styrofoam cup.

Lambert loved black coffee. All bad guys loved black coffee. Duh.

The therapist lifted the instant liquid paradise to his lips and began to take a long sip of the beverage when suddenly-

"Hey! Whatcha doing?" Came a peppy greeting, as a dark haired girl's head appeared right under his drinking arm.

Startled, Lambert spit out what he had been drinking, flying droplets of piping hot coffee spluttering all over his counter. Wherever the liquid spilt, a hole was burned straight through the wood. One has to wonder the damage that would have been dealt to the man's innards.

"Who the hell are you?" Lambert growled, brown coffee dribbling down his chin and staining his pristine white shirt. Oh, that would be an absolute bitch to get out.

The startlingly beautiful girl smiled, revealing perfect choppers, "Hi! I'm Tianna and I'm your next appointment!"

His eyes widened, and he looked around the rest of his office, "Um, where's the other person?" He asked, in a stupor.

"Who?" Tianna asked, blinking innocently.

"You know, the person who you're in a relationship with?" Lambert prodded as he set his Styrofoam cup down.

Tianna seemed the scratch her head in confusion, "Oh…um…crap," She sighed and looked at Lambert in embarrassment, "I think I forgot him at home again."

Lambert raised an eyebrow, "Forgot him at home-?"

But his inquiry was cut short, when a red-headed teenaged boy charged into the office, panting and out of breath, "GodDAMN it Tianna, you ditched me _again_!"

Tianna giggled slightly, hunching her shoulders, "Oopsie poopsie, sorry Derek."

"Well…this is…strange," Lambert said cautiously, turning and heading behind his desk, gesturing towards the two seats in front of him, "Please take a seat you two whippersnappers."

Tianna immediately took a seat and propped her feet up on the other chair. The redhead, 'Derek', stood there patiently, obviously waiting for Tianna to remove her muddy sneakered feet so he could sit down.

"Achem," He said politely, knowing that she would take the hint now.

"So, Dr. Bertlamb, what do you want me to talk about?" Tianna asked politely.

"Tianna-"

"Oh, nothing really. I actually just want to hear about how _amazing _you are at _everything _you do." Lambert said, beginning to become infected with Suddenly Tianna's Important Syndrome™.

"Um, guys," Derek said, gesturing frantically at himself and the unoccupied chair.

"I love talking about that!" Tianna said happily, "I can skateboard, and play soccer, and dance, and conduct symphonies, and cure cancer-"

"And yet you always look so refreshed! How _do _you _do _it?" Lambert asked, folding his hands beneath his chin.

"I would like to sit now…" Derek interrupted.

"With the love and support of my vaguely homicidal family of course!" Tianna responded.

"I like families," Derek muttered.

"Only someone as awesome as you, Tianna, would be able to mend a broken home such as that!" Lambert said dreamily, fluttering his eyelashes in outmost admiration.

"I would brag, but I'm far too modest and nonbitchy to do so," Tianna replied.

"Guys! I would _REALLY _like to sit now!" Derek proclaimed.

Lambert's eyebrows furrowed, "Tianna, do you hear a buzzing sound?"

She shrugged, "Mosquitoes?"

"I **am **important!" Derek yelled, having enough as he forcefully shoved Tianna's shoes off the chair and took a seat.

The two conversing occupants of the room paused and blinked a few times.

"When did you get here?" Asked Lambert, wide-eyed.

Derek's jaw dropped, "I've been herethe whole time!"

Tianna looked at her boyfriend, "Are you sure?"

His eyes widened, "Of course I'm sure! You forgot me at my house so I followed you here to discuss our relationship and why I'm always overlooked and unappreciat-"

"Tianna, how do you get your hair to dazzle so?" Lambert wondered out loud, redirecting the discussion to someone who wasn't so…so…_normal_.

"I never have to try, it becomes gorgeous just on its own!"

"That's incredible!"

Derek could feel frustration bubbling up inside of him, so he took a couple of deep breaths and repeated 'I am a flower' to himself a few times before trying to speak up again, "I asked Tianna to come here with me because I'm insecure due to the fact that everyone likes her better than me-"

"Can you juggle Tianna?" Lambert queried, just needing to know.

She shrugged, "I've never had any training, but why not?"

Somehow, Lambert conjured up three oranges, "Here! Try!"

Tianna's eyes narrowed, "I bet I could juggle them even better if they were on fire."

Lambert had a lighter at the ready.

"-And it makes me feel as if no one cares about _my _accomplishments. I mean, I'm really a nice guy and people seem to like me well enough, but then my girlfriend shows up and it's all 'who's that dude' and it's not fair-"

"Oh my God! Look at this Derryl, look! Look!" Lambert proclaimed in awe.

Across the office, Tianna was now juggling three inflamed oranges _while _riding a unicycle and speaking only in haiku.

"Is anyone even listening to me?" Derek pouted, feeling the urge to tear his hair out by its roots.

"Derek, be not mad.

I'm just far better than you.

Watch me juggle stuff." Came Tianna sagely.

"Tianna you are _so _great! Why are you dating someone so lame?" Lambert asked, clapping with enthusiasm.

That was the final straw. Derek was Fed Up more than K Fed at the Fed Ex paying with money from the Federal Reserve. Angry, he kicked over the chair and yelled, "What the HELL do I have to do to impress you people?"

"You need a chill pill,

Do not feel inferior,

Stop kicking his chair." Said, well, you know.

Lambert, realizing that his personal property was at stake, reluctantly tore himself away from Tianna, (who was now doing a handstand on the unicycle while juggling with her feet and mentally writing a master's thesis on quantum physics- incredible!), and faced Derek.

"Don't deface private property you hooligan!" He said reproachfully.

"I'm just sick of everyone liking Tianna more than me!" The teen whined.

Lambert sighed. It was either 'talk' to this kid, or have some of his swag destroyed. "Well, I'm sure, you have um…a talent?"

Derek's face brightened. He was listening to him! At last! "I can skateboard!" He said happily.

Lambert made 'a face', "Yeah, but _Tianna _can skateboard too."

Derek groaned, despair creeping up on him like a lioness creeps up on a three legged wildebeest, "I…have long hair?" He tried again.

Lambert slowly shook his head, "So does-"

"Enough already!" Derek proclaimed in anguish, throwing his arms up into the air.

The relationship counselor sighed and decided to give a pep talk, "Look, Derek, there are people out there that are just a thousand times more awesome and better and cooler, and generally more fun to be around than you are. You happened to decide to date one of them. That's really _your _fault. Of course no one's going to like you if your girlfriend is a lot more spiffy than you could ever hope to be."

Derek cradled his head in his hands and some sniffling sounds were heard. Lambert discovered that he wasn't really good at pep talks.

"So…are we clear?" Lambert asked.

The sniffling sounds progressed into violent sobs and cries of 'No one loves me!'.

"Um…right." Lambert continued.

Tianna, having finished her mental master's thesis, did a double flip off of the unicycle and extinguished the flaming fruit just by looking at them. She then walked over to where her crying boyfriend was.

"What is the problem?

Derek seems very upset,

Your advice must suck."

Lambert glared at her, "Oh yeah, you do it better then!"

Famous last words, and Lambert discovered he had made a vital mistake. Tianna was the best at everything!

She walked over to her hubby and said in a totally genuine and sympathetic tone:

"Derek, I like you

And I'm the best, so that's that

Stop your bitching please."

Derek was incredibly impressed with her sound counseling, his tears dried and he felt like a new man. "Wow, Tianna, that was the best relationship advice I've ever received!"

Lambert's jaw dropped, "What?! That was crap!"

Derek scoffed, "Maybe if _you _had said it, but _Tianna _said it. In haiku!"

Well, he couldn't compete with that.

But he tried anyway.

"I speak in haiku

That makes me as cool as you,

So shut the hell up now."

Tianna shook her head in disapproval.

"That was not haiku

There was one more syllable.

Give back my money."

Lambert felt raw rage fill him, "Why should I give you a refund?! You came to me for counseling!"

Derek rolled his eyes, "But Tianna solved the problem better than you did, Dr. Bertlamb!"

Lambert tensed, he was getting backed into a corner, he knew it! "Well, no, you see, that was actually a…test." He brightened, "Yes! That's it! A test! I like my clients to take a more proactive role in their relationship by fixing the problems themselves!"

"What a load of crap

You are a bad therapist

We want our money back."

Lambert glared at her, "You shut up now! No one cares about your fancy schmancy haiku talk!"

An appalled look crossed her face.

Derek's eyes widened, "Did you just say…that you don't _care _about _Tianna_?" The words sounded blasphemous, even to his own ears.

Lambert nodded, "Damn right."

"B-b-but _everyone _cares about _Tianna_!" Her boyfriend protested, Tianna nodding in the background.

"Well, _I _care about my _money _more, so scram!" Lambert declared.

Derek and Tianna stood there, gaping like fishes that had strayed too far from their goldfish bowls.

"Are you sure? I mean, maybe you're just mistaken?" Tianna tried to clarify.

"Yes I'm sure. Money comes first in my heart-shaped black hole. Now get out before I call my secretary. She used to be a pro wrestler." Lambert said crossly.

Tianna and Derek looked at each other before shrugging.

"Um, you want to go skateboard or something?" Derek asked.

"Alright, but I might forget you when I'm too busy being awesome," Tianna replied as the pair headed out of the office.

Lambert exhaled slowly as he leaned back in his swivelly chair. It was all in a hard day's work of taking money without actually solving anything. At least this time there was a damn amusing juggling trick.

**I'm not too keen on Tianna. Did it show? (Cringes) Sorry Tianna fans.**

**Up Next is Jimena and Collin, followed by an Epilogue and then this story's outtie.**


	10. In Which Stereotypes Are Exploited

_Love by Lambert_

**AN: **Collin and Jimena are very unique characters with well-thought out, detailed personalities. They are realistic, wonderful, and all together quite neat.

This chapter doesn't give a flying crap about that.

**Chapter Eight: In Which Stereotypes Are Mercilessly Exploited…**

At this point in his career, Lambert decided that he definitely needed some sort of award. Not because he actually had talent at giving advice or had mended incredibly difficult rifts between loved ones to ultimately make the world a better place. Oh no, Lambert needed an award, preferably cash, for all the crap he had to deal with.

Honestly, these people were all batshit crazy. Every last one of them. The old lady? Especially her.

Absently tossing a Mentos into his mouth, for Lambert liked to be made fresh, he kicked his boots up on the desk. This day could just not get any weirder.

Really, it couldn't, as the sun was starting to settle and the office hours were beginning to draw to a close. It would take some severe, and cruelly ironic, act of God to fill in some weird action during the last hour of his first day-

A knock sounded at the door.

Oh, poo.

Lambert sighed and did a few mental mediations, trying to secure his inner self and not return to his violent tendencies when dealing with morons. He had more aggravated assault charges than a rap artist.

Ooo, burn.

Clearing his throat, the therapist slowly creaked open the door.

"Shit." He muttered, "Not _you._"

"Open the door whitey," Snapped Jimena from the other side.

Lambert rolled his eyes, "See, now that's just rude. I happen to be quite sensitive about my hair color-"

"Now!"

"Okay," He said in a small voice.

The door was forced open, and in strode Jimena, flanked on her side by a rather spacey looking young man.

"Don't tell me you took someone hostage!" Lambert demanded, his face falling, "I'll give you advice for free, Jimena! Just don't bust a cap in the shirtless young man!"

The shirtless young man blinked, "Dude, Jimena, you were going to bust a cap in me? Because that would be awwweeeesoommme, man."

"Are you on drugs?" Lambert questioned shrewdly, having been born with the unique ability to smell cannabis a mile away.

Collin shrugged, "No, brah. I'm high…" Dramatic pause, "On life!"

Jimena stared at the counselor levelly, "Look old man, I'm going to tell it to you straight. My boyfriend here's a danger junkie and I don't know how to make it stop!"

Lambert's nose wrinkled, "You're _dating _the walking Coppertone ad?"

Collin absently rubbed in some stray spots of sunscreen, feeling mighty abashed indeed.

Jimena nodded.

Lambert sighed and rubbed his forehead with two of his fingers, "Oh, Jimmy, you could do so much better-"

"For the last time, my name is pronounced _he_mina, there is no 'J' noise so do **not **call me Jimmy." Jimena growled.

Lambert blinked, "This is the first time I've called you Jimmy."

Jimena grit her teeth, "That's not even the point."

The surfer tucked some gold hair behind his ears, "Jimmy, I'm bored, dude."

"Well, we're not leaving until we fix your dehydrated ass," Jimena shot back.

"How come _he _gets to call you Jimmy!" Lambert pouted, gesturing between the two of them, "We have a _bond _Jimena. A bond of rap music, there is no deeper connection!"

"Because this _gabacho _is trying to get me to hurt him," Jimena protested, "I swear, he's a masochist!"

Lambert turned to the surfer, "What do you think about that shirtless boy?"

"Tubular." Collin said enthusiastically.

Lambert blinked, "Pardon?"

"Cowabunga." Collin tried again.

"Huh?" Lambert responded brightly.

"Dick Dale."

"What?"

"The only motion is the ocean."

Lambert was very confused, "I don't understand."

Collin gave an aggravated sigh, "Generic surfer comment?"

"Oh!" Lambert proclaimed, finally getting it. He faced Jimena, "He _is _mental!"

"So it seems," She said dryly.

"Take a seat, and we'll get started." Lambert instructed, gesturing to the empty chairs that had housed almost every major character's ass thus far.

"Righteous," Said Collin, bobbing his head.

"To you too, young sir," Said Lambert with the air of an old person who had no idea what the hell those damn kids were saying. He flipped open the handy dandy notepad, "So, let's start at the beginning, when did you first start to like each other?"

Jimena looked thoughtful, "Well, there was that night with the whipped cream-"

"And we're moving on," Cut in Lambert, not even wanting to touch that dark area, a distant memory of an Easy Bake Oven came to mind and he shuddered, "How about you beach bum?"

"Aw, man it was all crazy man and we totally jumped out of a car." Collin said sagely.

"You…jumped…out…of…a…car?" Lambert announced slowly, trying to see if he was speaking the same language.

"No fear!" He yelled.

Lambert cleared his throat, "Jimena, you wouldn't mind if I just talked to you for the rest of this session, would you?" He had started to like the trigger happy deviant ever since she had lifted Stanton's wallet during their supposed friendship hug.

Jimena groaned in defeat, "Go ahead."

Lambert nodded, "Okay, first question with a hopefully sane answer, what the hell is he talking about?" He queried, jerking a thumb at Collin who was now playing air guitar.

"He's talking about a time when we were kidnapped and the only possible way of escaping was to jump out of a moving vehicle into congested Los Angeles traffic," She paused, "But that was after I shot at him."

He choked, "Shot? Like with drugs?"

"High on life!" Collin reasserted.

Lambert waved his hand at the boy, "Yes, yes. That's very nice."

"I took out my piece because I thought he was a…" She trialed off nervously, "A _tecaro._"

"You tried to kill him because you thought he was a taco?" Lambert wondered, he wasn't big on the Romance languages. Except Latin, of course. Everyone knew Latin.

"A _tecaro, _a drug dealer." Jimena spelled out for the idiotic man with the terrible smelling breath.

"High on life!"

"Of course, young man," Lambert rolled his eyes. "So let me see if I am following. You shot at him with a fully loaded gun-"

"It was about half loaded," She clarified.

"-shoved him out of a car into oncoming traffic-"

"It was his idea."

"No fear!"

"-anything else I should know about?" Lambert pressed.

Jimena seemed very contemplative, "He did come over to my 'hood, and some punk gangsters assaulted him and tried to pimp his ride."

Lambert faced the surfer, "And how did that make you feel?" He asked the quintessential question that all therapists must ask sometime in their career.

Collin gave him two thumbs up, "No fe-"

"We _get _it!" Jimena growled, folding her arms over her chest.

Lambert stared at Collin with wide, watery, beady, unattractive eyes, "_Why _are you still dating her?! Have you no regard for your personal safety?!"

Collin shrugged, "Whatever, man."

Lambert gaped at him, "I am _very _concerned," He said primly, facing Jimena, "Young lady, your lifestyle is…is…reckless!" He scolded.

"_La vida loca!_" She argued.

Lambert face-palmed himself. She was retreating to the insane land of ridiculous stereotype speech as well, "That's just STUPID!" There, he had finally said it.

"Right on dude!"

Lambert's eye started to twitch, "I don't think I like you." He hissed darkly at the surfer.

Collin seemed mildly offended, before he gave a too-cool-for-you-bia toss of his golden hair, "Let it be."

"That's a Beatles' song! Doesn't anything either of you say make sense!" Lambert proclaimed with flourish, trying to locate something resembling integrity in his twisted freak show of an office.

"Don't make me go _Nuevo _on yo' ass," Jimena shouted, standing up and reaching for a pants' pocket.

"Whoa! There's no need for violence missy," Lambert said, scolding her like a child, "So you can take your New Wave and sit down in your damn chair!"

"No fear Jimena!" Came…oh, you know already.

"Don't encourage it!" Lambert spat sharply, tossing his tape dispenser at Collin's head.

The surfer caught it with one hand and pressed it against his ear, "Dude! I can hear the ocean!"

Lambert sunk into his seat and stared skyward, "Why God, why? What have I ever done aside from kicking puppies, playing practical jokes on senior citizens, selling illegal drugs disguised as candy to schoolchildren, making fun of homeless people, leaving the toilet seat up, and double parking in handicap spots to deserve this?"

"Hey, man, chill." Collin instructed, "You want to know what I think your problem is, dude?"

Lambert stared dejectedly into his lap, having been denied a heavenly epiphany, "No."

"I think there's too much _fear_, man." He continued, not even caring that no one was listening, because that's just the type of guy he was, "You need to live life with _no _fear. Not _with _fear."

"I hate you."

Jimena was busy distracting herself by doing a jailhouse tattoo on her wrist with a melted comb.

Collin leaned over, "Man, you know what you need?"

"An ax?"

"You need some _life_."

Lambert slammed his head against his desk, "I don't want your freaking life." He inhaled, and straightened his tie, as the head damage had been sufficient in knocking out enough brain cells so he could function again, "I think, Collin, that you're unhealthily addicted to danger."

Collin scoffed, "No f-"

"I swear if your next word is 'fear' I will _burn _everything you love," Lambert threatened.

"Fright?" He supplied, instead.

Lambert ran a hand down his face, he couldn't really get angry. He _had _said fright, not fear, "Fine, nice to see children expanding their vocabulary. Anyways, Jimena," At this, Jimena's head snapped up. "I think you should either baby proof your home arsenal, or just not take Collin anywhere. Seriously, he's going to get killed one day."

Jimena nodded and went back to tattooing herself.

"Um, was that a yes that you'll stop taking Collin places? Or a yes that Collin will get killed one day?" Lambert muttered uncomfortably.

Another nod.

"Well thank _you _for your _wonderful _attitude," Lambert spat, trying to inject the proper amount of snarky sarcasm.

"Bitch, I'll cut you if you keep talking!"

That was so totally the last straw for Lambert. It was like trying to teach the complex functions of microcellular biology to monkeys that were preoccupied with throwing their own feces around. _Exactly _like that! "You know what?" He said angrily, digging in his desk drawer and tossing out a handful of fireworks that he had been saving for a super special occasion that would require fireworks, "Here's some easily flammable stuff, go nuts."

Collin immediately set three on fire and shoved them up his nose, while Jimena tried to cram one into her gun's bullet chamber.

"And we're done here today," Lambert said, darting to the door and rapidly opening it, as the wicks on Collin's fireworks were quickly dwindling, "Scamper!" He ordered.

Collin and Jimena strode out of the office, easily distracted.

"These are so awesome and righteous and tubular!" Came Collin.

"I could waste three _vatos _with this!"

As soon as he was certain that the psychos had left, Lambert slammed the door shut and congratulated himself for helping rid the world of that gene pool. He went to his office and started to pick up things, as the day surely had to be over now-

A knock sounded at his door. "Dr. Bertlamb, there's a young woman here to see you, she's got an appointment." Came the voice of Doris.

Lambert screamed in frustration, "You've _got _to be shitting me!"

**OoO**

Next Up: The last chapter! Epilogue: The One Lambert Couldn't Fix.

!nym!


	11. Epilogue: The One Lambert Couldn't Fix

_Love By Lambert_

**AN: **Everyone, acknowledge that **elephantsrocmysox **is a precognitive god. Seriously, that was amazing :Hands out a gold medal: I thought everyone would think it was _Cassandra _but man, you're good. Very, very good.

_Warning: _There's one or two sex jokes in this. They're appropriate for a 'T' rating though, just thought I'd give everyone a heads up : )

**Epilogue: The One Lambert Couldn't Fix**

When Lambert saw who walked into his office, he felt his heart cease its very beating. The setting sun stilled in the air and the air became heavy. Pure, unadulterated fear leaked into him and he sighed sadly, knowing that the jig was finally over.

"Good afternoon," Came none other than Lambert's ball and chain, well, really it would be more like a cloud and um…wispy spectral thing?

"I see you've finally caught me," Lambert said in defeat, packing his potted plant into a brief case and straightening out his papers- most of which were humorous caricatures of the various wackoes that had been in his office today. "I mean, I thought I was being very clever, with the nifty anagram and the concealing corrective lenses, but _no _you had to track me down and suck the life right out of me, didn't you? Oh why oh _why _have I put up with you for decades?! You never let me have _any _fun ever! And it's like totally not cool anymore, you know? Because I work **hard **and I try my _very **best **_and I _give _and _give _but no one ever goes 'Hey man, you're a damn evil person, here's a cookie' and it's so **depressing **after awhile, you know? So it's like dude, give me a _break-_"

"Um, I hate to interrupt your impressive run on sentence," Came the lovely young lady at the entrance who had yet to sit down, "But I'm not with the IRS."

Lambert paused his rant, blinking, "Excuse me?"

The young lady sighed, "You're freaking out because you think I'm here to collect taxes or something, aren't you?"

The love doctor continued to just blink and not much else, was this some kind of game? "Um…"

She laughed, the tinkly and quite frankly too cute to be evil sound very familiar to Lambert's ears. He remembered hearing it every time something occurred that caused him physical pain. Ah, yes, he had picked himself a spiteful wench indeed.

"Let's start over, you must be Dr. Bertlamb? I'm Ursula," She said, all smiles.

Lambert felt his face twist into horror. _She didn't _recognize _him?!_ He had subjected himself to an eternity of ostracism, carrying around a tacky water bottle full of funkadelic potion, and putting up with a TON of bitching. They had been roomies for _centuries_, had even kicked puppies together, and _she didn't recognize him?!_

His hand touched the frame of his lenses.

These were _really _good glasses!

Lambert coughed into his hand, "Um, yeah, that's totally me. Nice to hide from-er-meet you Aura."

She squinted, "It's Ursula."

"I said that."

"No you didn't."

"Yes I did."

"No, you said-"

"And why are you here today?" Lambert cut off, gesturing to those wonderful empty seats. She took one.

"Well, I'm just going to be honest, I'm having problems with my significant other." Ursula explained.

Lambert tensed, this could be very, very humiliating for him. He got enough of that at home, he didn't want to bring it to work! "Really…" Of course, it didn't help that he now noticed his old lady was wearing an indecently low cut shirt. "And how is that?"

Ursula stretched, and that little number she was wearing was _so _not helping Lambert maintain a professional appearance, "He's…kind of a loser."

Lambert balked, "How could you say that?"

Ursula rose a perfect eyebrow, "He is. He never does _anything _right and he's _always _being thwarted by meddling kids!"

Lambert's lips pursed, oh, she was _such _a bitch sometimes! "Well _maybe _those meddling kids are equipped with _freaking _superpowers and unnaturally attractive good looks and he thinks it would be nice to be _appreciated _for just _trying his hardest _once and a while!"

Ursula shrugged, not even caring a whole lot, "You know, my first husband, before I started seeing _the loser,_ was incredibly rich."

The therapist sneered, "That's nice."

"Like, mega rich."

"Okay."

"Rich enough to purchase Europe."

"Neat."

"And this new guy? He can't even afford to upgrade his wardrobe! I mean _hello, _dark robes went out of style in the Dark Ages." Ursula continued nonchalantly, picking her fingernails.

"I happen to think that Dark Cloaks of Evil are incredibly sophisticated," Lambert shot back, "And only tasteless drones would think otherwise." Ha, she got served!

"Uh! He' s not even that attractive!" She continued, and gestured to herself, "I mean, can you see someone like _me _dating a pale, gaunt, nerd man?"

Lambert gasped. That one had stung. "You're not that great…" He grumbled.

Ursula rolled her eyes, "You've been staring at my chest the whole time I've been in here."

"Don't even use that on me, you and your…your skank tops!" He replied quickly, obviously flustered.

Ursula mock-gasped, "My skank tops! How dare you! It says right on the label they're tramp tees!"

"They are skank tops! SKANK TOPS!" Lambert yelled back, throwing professional dignity to the wind like a child hocking a loogie out of a school bus's window.

Ursula pouted and seemed to give Lambert an appraising eye, "You know, you're rather attractive…"

Lambert blushed, "Thanks."

"If it wasn't for my total wet blanket of a man I'd _so _jump your bones." She said contemplatively, tapping a finger against her mouth.

The therapist's eyes widened, she wanted to cheat on him?! With him?! Wait, what? "I think you and your dashingly good looking young man-"

"He's not good looking. He's not even young," Ursula complained, "And don't even get me _started _on the intimacy issues…"

Now Lambert was clearly insulted, "_What _intimacy issues?"

"He's just so impersonal ALL of the time," She elaborated, "Every time we get ready for snookie nookie, he locks himself in the bathroom for at _least _two hours, sometimes I hear him crying, and then he just wants to _talk _about his _feelings_. I mean, who puts up with that kind of crap? The guy should be mature enough to handle sex by now!"

"You know, most girls your age- _old _age I might add- would **kill **to have a guy who wants to be in an open relationship. Just because he's vulnerable and sensitive doesn't mean that he's got intimacy issues! Maybe he just has performance anxiety and _certain _nagging harpies don't make the process any easier because all they do is yell and say hurtful things about certain things underneath pants!" He protested, getting red in the face.

She was trying hard not to laugh. Really, she was. "You know, you rant like you've had experience, Dr. Bertlamb." She commented snidely.

Lambert immediately regained composure, coughing awkwardly into his hand, "No, no. It's an ancient voodoo practice we therapists use to um, connect with the other person in the relationship-"

"You mean the common psychiatry practice therapists use to connect with people by role playing as each other?" Ursula suggested helpfully.

"I said that."

"No, no you did not."

"Yes I did."

"No you didn't-"

"So, surely your handsome young man has redeeming qualities?" Lambert cut off quickly.

She paused thoughtfully, "Um…wow. This is incredibly difficult-"

"It can't be that hard-"

"Oh, it is. It's like I have to dig through ten tons of radioactive sewage to find a positive aspect of his character," She reinforced, "It's like, he's not handsome, he's not rich, he's in a dead end job, he likes boy bands-"

"Boy bands create very catchy music," Lambert defended, "Plus all of their merchandize has surely stimulated the economy."

Ursula's eyes widened as if she had just had a revelation, "Oh!"

Lambert leaned forward, "Yes?"

"I forgot to pick up his dry-cleaning. I guess he'll have to wear that velvet magenta tracksuit I bought him for Christmas tomorrow at work." She said, smacking her open palm against his forehead.

Lambert growled, "Damn it, infernal woman, what are you good for?"

She stretched again in that skank top.

"…I see. You make a very clear argument," Lambert trailed off, drool leaking out of the corner of his mouth slightly.

"So what do you think I should do, Dr. Bertlamb?" She asked coyly, batting her eyelashes, "Because the singles' market is looking pretty good right now…" She gave him a wink, "You married?"

Lambert fidgeted nervously with his clip-on tie, "Apparently not for long." He murmured, before clearing his throat, "Aura-"

"Ursula."

"Right, I said that."

"…"

"I think you should cherish this handsome, grade A quality man you've got on your hands. He's intelligent-"

"More like moderately not stupid."

"-brave-"

"Like a neutered bunny rabbit in front of a grizzly bear."

"-charismatic-"

"Well, I suppose he did get off the couch yesterday to grab more Cheetos-"

"-is very skilled at many things-"

"…He tried needlepoint once. Didn't quite work out for him."

"-and can look at your lumpy ass without hurling profusely," He finished up elegantly, a bit peeved at Ursula's constant interruptions.

Ursula stared at him crossly, "My ass is _not _lumpy."

"Of course not. Just like your forehead doesn't make me want to grab the nearest syringe full of Botox because it's _not _wrinkly." He replied, _two _could play at this game. Oh yes, two indeed.

"Well maybe, if certain _moronic losers with intimacy issues _wouldn't cause me so much stress, there wouldn't be any wrinkles!" Ursula snapped in a false indignation, turning her nose up.

"Oh yeah? Well _maybe _if certain _soul sucking harpies with SKANK TOPS _didn't try to break people's spirits, he'd be able to get a REAL job that pays enough to buy a map of Europe and then could save up and finally achieve his dream of becoming a real estate agent! One with business cards!" He heaved, breathing slightly, "But _no _he can't be a super good real estate agent because he's constantly having to tote around a TASTELESS WATER BOTTLE full of **STUPID **that will spread the **STUPID **to other **STUPID **people so the _soul sucking harpy with the SKANK TOP _can have a physical body and isn't some weird spectral thing!" He breathed in deeply, "And _that's _why your DAMN GOODLOOKING MANFRIEND is stuck being an underappreciated evil overlord!"

Ursula gave him a few seconds to calm down, "Are you ready to go home now?" She asked flatly, stifling the chuckles behind her hand, "Because those dandelions are growing out of control in the backyard."

Lambert sunk into his chair, very much defeated indeed, "How long did you know it was me?"

She smirked, "Since I walked in the door. The left side of your disguise glasses doesn't even have a lens and all your stationary says 'Lambert Malmaris' on it. Plus, Dr. Bertlamb? C'mon, even your half semester at Evil Community College should have taught you _some _creativity when coming up with a pseudonym. Besides, it's not even an anagram, you threw an extra 'B' in there."

"Why do you constantly have to bring down my self-esteem?" He pouted.

"I'm your soul sucking harpy of a wife, that's my job," She said coolly, "Have you _actually _been giving advice to people?"

"Yes." He said in a whiny voice, "Awesome advice."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, really really." Lambert was very mature for his age.

"Then why did I see a time traveler with a shotgun, some girl in a _Naruto _tee shirt punching a boy in a _Teen Titans _hat, a raccoon addicted to painkillers, a good looking boy with a blonde girlfriend crying in some dark alley in the fetal position, your favorite minion with two staples in his eye, a red head trying to write philosophical haikus, an old lady stroking an Easy Bake Oven, and a surfer with three firecrackers shoved up his nose?"

Lambert muttered, "You forgot the crazy ex gangster trying to shoot people," Between his fingers which were now cradling his head in despair.

"Honey, just face it, you aren't cut out to be a therapist." She said easily, "You can't even handle _me._"

"But you're a bitchy cloud thing," He protested.

"And you're a pasty overlord. Let's not take a detour from that whole reality thing we love so much," She coaxed, extending a hand.

Lambert begrudgedly took it, "What about Doris?" He said, for they shared a bond now.

"I took the liberty of finding you a replacement." Ursula said, "And they said they would be more than happy to keep Doris on as a secretary- what with her pro wrestler credentials and all."

Lambert exhaled, "Fine. But I'm finding one of Catty's fan boys to clear the yard of those dreaded dandelions."

"Fair enough, let's go home," Aura said as the two of them walked out.

"Can we have snookie nookie?" Came Lambert's voice.

"I have a headache."

"You _always _have a headache. You should really have someone look into that."

"Sure thing."

Neither of them noticed that Doris was already frantically chipping away at the name plaque on the office's wall, replacing the letters of Dr. Bertlamb with three a's, one n, one d, one r, two s's and one C.

**OoO**

And we're out! Thank you to everyone who read this story and reviewed! It was fun, but all barely mediocre things must eventually come to an end, I'm afraid.

Thanks again!

!nym!

**Note:**

Lambert's new office hours as a real estate agent can be located on his myspace.


End file.
